Once He Even Came To Get Me
by MissLizzyJ
Summary: Some missing moments with someone who was never seen in the series and what role that character might have played in Matt's decision to "go and get" Kitty in The Badge.
1. One Way Ticket

A/N This is for Dodge City Angel, because I told her I might write it, although it was so long ago she's probably forgotten.

Part One

One Way Ticket

Kitty stood at the window that looked out over Front Street, careful to stay out of sight of anyone who might be trying to catch a glimpse of her. The person she wanted both the most and the least to see her wouldn't be looking at her window; that she already knew. Sam had reported that, while out of danger, he was still recuperating in Doc's back room; rumor had it that without her there to help keep an eye on him, Doc had had to resort to hiding his pants and boots in order to ensure his recovery. The thought made one side of her mouth twitch briefly in a grin in spite of her distress.

A light tap on the door interrupted her thoughts. Almost grateful for the momentary interruption of her thoughts of the painful decision she'd made after the shooting five nights before, she called out "Come in!" The door opened slowly. Louie Pheeters stood somewhat awkwardly at the threshold, hesitant to venture further. Kitty motioned him in, then walked over and closed the door most of the way behind him.

"Are you feeling any better, Miss Kitty?"

"I'm all right, Louie." That, of course, was a lie. She was far from all right, and she doubted she ever would be again. "I wonder if you would do a couple things for me."

"I'll do anything I can for you, Miss Kitty," Louie said gallantly, not quite meeting her eyes. They both knew there was one thing he couldn't do, not even for himself. Letting that pass, Kitty nodded toward a heap of valises and hat boxes near the door.

"Take my bags to the depot?"

"So it's true, then," he said mournfully. A statement, not a question.

"It's true."

"Isn't there anything-"

"No," she interrupted, barely able to hold onto her tears. "There isn't." She had asked Sam to get Louie, unable to bring herself to ask Doc, Newly or Festus to see her off. It was difficult enough saying goodbye to Louie, but she had to. She had one more favor to ask him.

"Before you go, Louie...there's someone I'd like you to look out for."

"You bet I will, Miss Kitty. I know I'm not much, but I'll help the marshal anyway I can."

"I know you will, Louie, you always have, but it's not Matt I'm talking about." Kitty turned around and scooped up the furry creature occupying the ornate chair at her writing desk. She held him up to her face and nuzzled her cheek against Pumpkins sleek coat. "It's like this, Louie. I'm not sure yet where I'm going to end up and I doubt very much he'll enjoy a stage ride anyway, so as much as I want to, I just don't see how I can take him with me. Will you look after him for me? I'll send for him if I can, but it might be permanent."

"Don't worry about a thing, Miss Kitty. Pumpkin and I are old friends. We'll get along right as rain."

"Thank you, Louie." Pumpkin, sensing that something was amiss, rubbed his head against Kitty's jaw. Hugging the cat gently, she kissed him on his cold nose, then held him out for Louie to take from her. The tears that had threatened her since Louie's arrival finally began to spill over. Quickly, she turned away to prevent him from seeing, and to keep from watching as Pumpkin was carried away.

TBC

A/N 2 I may have bent canon slightly with regard to the whereabouts of Matt's pants, because he was certainly wearing them when he got up to look out the window as Kitty was leaving.


	2. Out of Town Papers

Part Two

Out of Town Papers

Matt was out of sorts. Doc, Festus, Newly, and even Sam had all said as much to him, each in their own way, although they had all been careful to refrain from stating the reason. He had mostly avoided their company since Doc had finally given him his clothes back and released him from his care. He was getting tired of the way all four looked at him with varying mixtures of pity and reproach. They all knew the reason for his bad mood was that Kitty was gone, and they all, to a certain extent, blamed him for her leaving. If any of them had actually voiced that thought, he would have told them Kitty had made that decision herself. That she was a grown woman, he'd never told her what to do and he couldn't very well start now. In his heart, though, he knew he could have stopped her, if only he felt he had the right. Therefore, he had only himself to blame for Kitty leaving. He was, as Doc said, a dang fool, but there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it now.

He'd considered, once he was up and around, sending out some wires looking for her, but put that idea to rest almost instantly. She'd left of her own free will, she wasn't kidnapped or lost. Looking for her would just call attention to their relationship and jeopardize her safety. If it was widely believed they no longer meant anything to each other, it might decrease the chances that she could be used to get to him.

Having turned down Festus and Newly's invitation to meet at the Long Branch for coffee-he could barely bring himself to look at the place, much less go in-he made his own coffee for a change and savored several cups while he worked on the most pressing of his reports. That task completed, he poured a fresh cup and opened the top of a stack of recent newspapers, hardly bothering to check which one he had. Before he had read a word, he heard a soft scratching on the other side of the door and an insistent "mrow!"

Matt sighed and dropped his paper on the desk. Reluctantly, he got up to open the door, knowing that if he ignored it the cat would keep mewing like a nagging conscience. Without so much as a glance in his direction, the orange and white cat stalked purposefully through the door like he owned the place. The marshal returned to his desk and watched briefly as Pumpkin sniffed his way around the office, winding his way around the stove, the table and chairs in the middle of the room, and, finally, the cot Matt used when he spent the night at the jail. "Not you, too," he muttered and turned his attention back to the paper. Since Pumpkin never visited the office when Matt was there alone, and had never deigned to offer his services as a mouser, there could be only one reason he was searching the place. "She isn't here, boy," he said quietly, shaking his head.

Pumpkin stopped in front of the closed door that led to the jail cells and let out a long plaintive wail. "Listen, you, I guarantee you she's not back there!" Matt said, still keeping his voice down lest someone walk in and discover him attempting to reason with a cat. Pumpkin arched his back and howled, eyes narrowed and tail switching from side to side. Matt hoisted himself out of his chair again.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," he growled. He flung open the door and Pumpkin took his time examining the thankfully unoccupied cells. Finally satisfied that the person he sought wasn't locked up in back either, he made his way back out to the front and paced around restlessly, apparently waiting for her to appear.

Matt sat back at his desk and returned his attention to the paper and the article he had been reading about some grazing and water rights issues down south. He hadn't gotten far when in one graceful motion Pumpkin leapt into the desk. He sprawled out over the article Matt was trying to read and looked up at the big man accusingly. Matt gave a disgusted sigh.

"You, too, huh? All right, fine. I'll just go do my rounds and finish my reading later." As he braced his hands on the desk to stand, he saw the words "Kitty Russell" at his fingertips and forgot all about his rounds.

TBC


	3. It's Nice to Be Missed

A/N It's been so long since I posted a story that I forgot to include the disclaimer about not owning the characters. I'm just exercising my right to interpret what happened off-camera. Thank you to everyone who's posted a review. I will try to get back to everyone if I can.

Part Three

It's Nice To Be Missed

It had been a long evening and he was making his late rounds before calling it a night. He walked through the dark, alert to every suspicious noise; every scent, familiar and unfamiliar. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, he decided it was time to head for the stable that had been his home of late. All the saloons were closed and the little old man his lady wanted him to look out for was probably there or soon would be. He could curl up on the cot next to him or make himself a nice warm bed in the straw. As he passed the place where the people got on and off the stagecoach, he did his best to ignore the large number of human and horse smells and keep to his purpose. He was almost past it when he caught a whiff of something that made him stop in his tracks. It was a lady smell. _His_ lady. He sniffed around and soon picked up the trail where her skirts had brushed the ground.

Eagerly, Pumpkin followed the scent, until he realized it was leading to the building where the big man stayed when he was in town and his lady wasn't. Seeing that it was dark and hearing no sounds inside, he turned to leave and discovered another trail. It didn't take him long to determine that it lead back to his home—his _real_ home. A small amount of light was visible from the one open door. He usually avoided the downstairs when the outer doors were open because the place was full of loud, rough men drinking vile-smelling drinks and smoking. Fights usually broke out, and, as he knew from personal experience, sometimes there was a shooting. Tonight, though, the place was quiet. He sauntered through the doorway as though he had nothing better to do with his time. He was unnoticed by the two people who occupied the place. His lady stood close to the big man who had been the cause of her leaving. His arms were around her, and Pumpkin couldn't see her face. Her head was nestled in the space between the man's neck and shoulder-the same spot where Pumpkin curled up next to her at night. His head angled down toward her and he spoke softly into her ear. He rubbed her back up and down slowly as she nodded her head against his chest. With their arms around each other, they crossed the room, stopped briefly for the man to close and lock the door, then they ascended the stairs together.

The cat was ready to slink up the stairs after them, but something stopped him. Instinctively, he knew that his presence would not be appreciated that night. Holding his orange and white head proudly in the air and waving his tail even higher, he padded behind the bar. There was a stack of bar towels inviting him to curl up and he was soon purring contentedly. At first light he would give the lady-and the man if he was still there-an enthusiastic welcome home, but for the time being it was enough to know she was back. He was patient.

End


End file.
